Keys
by Dyani
Summary: Gus wants Shawn to listen to him, but Shawn has to make things difficult. Pure Shawn/Gus silliness.


Notes: This is set directly after the _Woman Seeking Dead Husband…_ episode (in which Shawn 'drugs' Gus and drags him out to investigate a lead). Slash. Fluff. Oneshot. That's about it. :D

* * *

"I still can't believe you would do that to me," Gus said later, abruptly. The thought of Shawn's betrayal had been eating at the back of his mind all day and he wouldn't feel better until he got an apology. Or at least made Shawn feel a little guilty about it. Whichever came first.

Shawn adopted a tragically misunderstood aspect. "Do _what_ to you? Take you along on yet another adventure?"

"No! Drug me and hijack my car for a road trip I didn't want to go on in the first place! And on top of that, you left me with an empty tank. Do you know how much gas costs, Shawn?"

"We discussed this already," Shawn said, sitting on the edge of the table in front of Gus. "First, road trips are inherently good, so I don't see your problem there."

"Shawn - "

"Second, what's the price of gas compared to an afternoon of unparalleled togetherness?"

"I was unconscious half the time! You _kidnapped_ me!"

"It's not kidnapping if it's consensual."

"That's not funny, I'm being serious here." Gus took a deep breath before continuing. "What you did was illegal. I could report you to the police."

"You could," Shawn said. He lay back across the table, stretching luxuriously, all confidence. "But you wouldn't."

Gus had to bite down hard on his tongue to keep from agreeing, since that would seriously undermine the point he was trying to make. The silence stretched on until Shawn was forced to speak up.

"Right, Gus?"

_Don't answer, don't answer…_

Shawn batted his eyes. "Riiight?"

There was no resisting that look. "Right," Gus relented. There was really no question about it. He knew – Shawn had to know, too - that he was the only one with the power to throw a monkey wrench in any of Shawn's plans, and the only one who never, ever would, no matter what stupid or potentially dangerous thing they were getting involved in this week. Gus would keep forgiving him and coming back for more. It was a pretty sweet set-up as long as your name was Shawn Spencer.

He sighed, feeling suddenly tired, pushing his chair back and stalking away. "Man, I really hate you sometimes."

"You don't mean that!" Shawn tried to sit up and rolled right off the table. "…Ow." He staggered to his feet and trailed after Gus, who was searching the office for something. "Come on, now. You're tired, you're cranky - I get that. Let's not part in anger."

"Really not in the mood right now…" He looked under a stack of magazines on one of the armchairs.

"You don't hate me," Shawn said. "Admit it."

He was not going to give in on this one. Nope. He was going to teach Shawn a lesson this time. If he could only find –

"Looking for these?" Shawn sang. Gus looked up from checking under the couch cushions only to see Shawn grinning his most devious of grins and dangling Gus' car keys in the air.

For a moment Gus could only stare, more impressed than angry. "Those were in my pocket. How did you - ?"

"Magic hands," Shawn said. "Now, admit it."

"Admit what?" Annoyance regaining its hold, Gus grabbed a couch cushion to use as a weapon if necessary and moved towards Shawn. "My intention to kill you?"

"Admit that you love me!"

"_What_?" Gus choked, and threw the couch cushion at Shawn's head.

Still waving the keys, Shawn danced backward, just out of reach of the not-quite-deadly projectile. "See? Now you're unarmed! This would be _so_ much easier if you'd just say it."

"You're insane," Gus pointed out. "You are a crazy person. I shouldn't have to do a song and dance for you just to get back what was my property to begin with."

"I'm not asking you to put it in song, although I have to admit that would be endlessly entertaining," Shawn said, with that look that said he was filing this idea away for later use. "I'm simply asking for a re-affirmation of what I know to be true; namely, that you do not, in fact, hate me."

True. Still… "If you know already, why do I have to say it?"

"If _you_ know already, then why not?" Shawn pointed out, in a deceptively rational manner that almost made Gus forget he was trying to teach Shawn a lesson for taking advantage of him again. But really, who was he kidding? Not himself. Obviously not Shawn. What, then, was the point of fighting over it, when all he wanted to do now was go home and relax, _alone_?

He sighed, defeated. "Fine…"

"Oh, delicious victory!" Shawn crowed. He slipped the keys into his pocket and assumed a thoughtful pose, beginning to pace back and forth. "Let's see… how about, 'Shawn, you are -' no, wait. 'Shawn Spencer, you are a fine upstanding fellow with great hair and an amazing wardrobe and never in a million years would I allow myself to entertain a negative thought about you… because you rock so hard.' How's that? Amazing?"

"Amazingly stupid," Gus muttered.

"Yeah, it's not my best work. Fine. Just tell me you love me."

"No _way_."

"Want your keys back?"

"Damn it, Shawn…"

"Three simple words!" Shawn said enticingly.

It was not often that Gus got ideas as crazy as the one he was getting right now, but when he did, it seemed only right that he act on them. After all, Shawn lived by doing the first stupid thing that occurred to him at any given time, and things always seemed to turn out fine for him, while Gus' most perfectly rational plans generally found a way to fail spectacularly when Shawn was involved.

So Gus marched right up to Shawn, looked him in the eye, said "I love you, stupid," and kissed him. Quickly, with more defiance than passion, but on the mouth and hard. Shawn absolutely squeaked with shock – now _that_ was a satisfying sound – and before he could react, Gus pushed him down into the armchair behind him. With an infinitely smug look, he held up the car keys. "'Magic hands'," he mocked, and strolled to the door.

For a moment Shawn only sat there, stunned, replaying the last few seconds in his mind and wondering how it had all gone so terribly wrong – or maybe not so terribly... "Wait a minute," he croaked, then, louder, "Hey, wait a minute!" He followed Gus to the door and called out, "You'll give me a ride home, right?"


End file.
